


Harry's Inheritance

by aerlinniel



Series: Harry Potter One-Shots [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Evil Albus Dumbledore, Gen, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Humor, Inheritance, Parody, Ron Weasley Bashing, Weasley Family Bashing (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerlinniel/pseuds/aerlinniel
Summary: Just a week after their fourth year ended, Hermione received a letter from Harry asking her to meet him at Gringotts. Apparently, against all expectations, he had received an inheritance.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Series: Harry Potter One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644826
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110
Collections: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020





	Harry's Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> A short story playing on the usual 'inheritance' trope, including eight Lordships, an apartment trunk, and too much money. I don't usually attempt parodies or humor, so hopefully this came out alright. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Written for Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020  
> Square: N3 - Free Square, Writer's Choice.

Gringotts was in a state of near chaos when Hermione entered. A number of Goblins were rushing around the ancient bank’s main hall, with only a few attending customers. The quickly mounting queue in front of the main desk must have been growing for some time, because it reached the entrance and twisted left twice in order to accommodate the sheer number of witches and wizards waiting.

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line and sighed. Harry had told her to meet him within Gringotts at ten in the morning, but she didn’t now exactly _where_. She would have to ask a goblin for directions. Given the sheer size of the queue, she’d be running late by the time she was able to so much as get an answer.

“Miss Granger?” a gruff voice asked behind her.

Turning around, Hermione found herself face to face with a goblin. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of what undoubtedly were the high-end robes of highly ranked Gringotts employees. What was he doing here? Had she done something wrong?

“Yes?” she asked.

The goblin bowed his head in greeting. “We were expecting you, Miss Granger.”

“Expecting me?”

“Yes. You had an appointment with us at ten, did you not?” The high-ranked employee seemed to scowl briefly. “More particularly within Lord Potter’s private meeting hall.”

Hermione frowned. _Lord Potter?_ she wondered, _who is that?_ “My friend Harry wanted us to meet at ten, yes.” She bit her lip. “Where is the meeting room? I wasn’t sure where to go, and the queue is so long that—.”

“There is no need to expose one of Lord Potter’s friends to the queue,” the goblin interrupted. “I was specifically ordered to await your arrival in order to escort you to the room myself.”

“Escort?” she repeated back. “I’m sorry, but there must be a mistake. I’m meeting my friend Harry, not some Lord Potter. He—.”

The goblin narrowed his eyes. “Exactly, you are meeting Lord Potter,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Bowing his head again, he gestured towards his right, at a lone corridor located behind a particularly tall row of desks. “If you could follow me, Miss Granger.”

Before she knew it, the goblin had started to walk at a brisk pace towards the row of desks. Hermione followed as best she could, observing mutely as the goblins sitting on the chairs there—which looked as stressed as the others in the huge hall—bowed deeply at the and let them through.

A set of narrow corridors and two flights of stairs revealed a beautiful arrangement of tiled marble floors and patterned amber and lapis lazuli walls. Hermione could only look on in amazement as they walked by a plethora of polished wooden doors—all closed—her shoes clacking on the elaborate patterns of the floor as they advanced.

It was two turns later that the goblin came to a stop. Straightening himself and wiping the dust off the nearly immaculate sleeves of his robe, he gestured at her to wait. Bowing deeply, he knocked on a particularly large wooden door. “Lord Potter? Your guest has arrived,” he said in a courteous, yet firm, voice.

Hermione just barely had time to hear the familiar voice of her friend beckoning them inside when the door was opened by another goblin. He gestured inside, bowing his head in greeting.

Soon shew as face to face with her best friend, who was looking at the goblin who had addressed her in the bank’s main hall. “Thanks, Gornuk,” Harry said lightheartedly. “This is all I will need for now, I think. Griphook has explained most of the details.”

The goblin—Gornuk—bowed again. “It was my pleasure, Lord Potter. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to—.”

Her friend smiled. “I know, if I need anything, I will call you again,” Harry said easily, leaning back into the plush backrest of the armchair he was sitting on. “I don’t think I can thank you enough for the last few days. Everything that I’ve been shown has been amazing.”

It was the other goblin—Griphook—that answered. “It was merely our duty, Lord Potter. The misclassification which took place with your family records was a most improper affair. No apology will ever be sufficient for the injustice which was committed.”

Gornuk nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “We will be just outside should you need us for anything, Lord Potter.”

The two goblins bowed again—first to Harry and then to her—before turning and finally leaving the room. Her friend turned to face her as soon as they left, gesturing to another plush chair close to his own.

“Hermione, it’s good to see you” Harry said, smiling widely. “Sit down if you want, we’ve got this room all to ourselves.”

Nodding slowly, Hermione approached her friend and sat on the chair. It was expensive—undoubtedly so—a fact which, together with the rest of the room, made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She leant forwards and looked at her friend. He seemed to be doing well well—far better than he had looked ever since the end of the Triwizard’s Tournament.

“It’s good to see you too, Harry,” she said dubitatively. “I was worried when I got your letter. Has something happened? We barely just returned from Hogwarts, and with everything that happened after the tournament—.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m as well as can be, really.” He paused and looked at a stack of papers neatly piled on a red and gold lacquered wood coffee table. “A lot of things have come up lately and—. Well, you’re my best friend. I just had to tell you.”

Hermione nodded again and looked around. “Why meet here, Harry? I don’t understand. The main hall of Gringotts was more disorganized than I’ve ever seen,” she recounted. “I almost thought I wouldn’t get here in time due to the huge queue piling up, but a goblin approached me and led me here.”

Her best friend laughed. “I suppose it would be, given the sheer number of things they’ve been having to do after the letter they sent me.”

“Letter? Just what happened, Harry?” She frowned, feeling confused, and bit her lip. “Is this about that ‘Lord Potter’ business? I wasn’t sure whether the goblin was confused or not. I don’t know any Lord Potter, and—.”

Harry waved his hand. “Oh no, that’s all fine. That’s my title now. _Lord Potter_ , can you believe that? The Dursley’s are going to have a fit when they finally hear about it.”

“What happened, Harry?”

The dark-haired wizard leant back into the armchair again. “Griphook partially explained it before, but there was a goblin waiting for me by the Dursley’s front door when I returned from Hogwarts. He was quite angry—apparently a lot of my Gringotts correspondence over the last years went missing and he thought I had been ignoring their calls for an urgent meeting.”

“Missing letters? How many got lost if he was waiting for you by the front door?” Hermione exclaimed, feeling surprised. She didn’t know Gringotts correspondence could even go missing, but it must have been a huge problem judging by how high-ranking Gringotts employees were treating her friend.

“Quite a lot of them, apparently. He was surprised to hear it, but he believed me,” Harry continued saying. “He left pretty quickly, but he handed me a letter which informed me that thanks to the Triwizard Tournament I’m apparently of legal age now.”

Hermione frowned. She hadn’t known that, but considering the contract which the goblet of fire created with the wizards it selected it wasn’t too surprising. “Okay, I can understand that,” she said after some moments, “but what does that have to do with our meeting here?”

“Well, the letter he gave me contained a petition to attend a meeting at Gringotts to have my rights and duties as Lord explained to me.” Harry stopped and rubbed the back of his head. “Long story short—I attended and had an inheritance test done.”

“Which is why you’re Lord Potter now?” she asked, curious.

Harry shook his head enthusiastically. “Not just Lord Potter, Hermione,” he said, smile widening as he gestured to the stack of papers on the lacquered table. “Those papers there are the results of my inheritance test. I’m not just Lord Potter—I’m also Lord Peverell, Lord Gryffindor, Lord Hufflepuff, Lord Ravenclaw, and Lord Slytherin. I still can’t quite understand everything that the goblins said, but I’m also Lord le Fay, and Lord Emrys too. I’m the sole living descendant of both Merlin and Morgana, can you believe that?”

Hermione’s hands dropped to her lap. “Merlin!” she exclaimed.

“That’s my ancestor’s name you’re using there, Hermione. Careful.”

“I’m sorry, just—. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and—.” She blinked and shook her head. “Harry, are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. I had a blood test done and everything, it’s all official. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as angry as the goblins when they saw my results. Apparently, someone misfiled paperwork on purpose to hide this.”

“Blood test? Aren’t those illegal?”

Harry’s expression twisted. “Well, yes, but not in Gringotts. It’s all quite legal here, apparently. Something about identifying heirs correctly. It’s really useful, honestly. Hermione, you should have one done too. You never know what may turn up.”

Hermione shook her head again and swallowed. “What else appeared?” she asked. “I imagine from the chaos in the main hall that you found out you’re the owner of a few large properties?”

“A few?” Harry grinned and shook his head. “I’m probably the rightful owner of about half the cultural heritage in the United Kingdom and France. Apparently, Windsor Castle once belonged to my family—Griphook said he was going to look into it.”

“Windsor Castle?”

Her friend nodded along eagerly. “Yes, Windsor. I think it must have more than a thousand rooms, what do you think I should use it for?”

“Use?” Hermione repeated blankly.

“Well, of course, Hermione! I mean, it’s my rightful property. I should be the one to live there.”

“But it’s a royal residence. Harry—.”

“I suppose you may be right there.” Harry pressed his lips together and nodded pensively. “Why settle for Windsor only when I could just as easily pick any of the other palaces I’ve inherited?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Other palaces?” she asked. “Harry, just how many properties did you inherit?”

Her friend stood up and gestured at a set of thick-looking files within a cabined on a far-off wall. “Can you see those?” he asked. “Gornuk was the one to organize them. All of the pages bound within them contain the names and locations of the different properties I’ve inherited, sans details. A few executives at Gringotts are preparing a full report on them as we speak.”

“But there’s more than twenty files!” Hermione cried out, horrified.

Harry sighed. “I know. I couldn’t believe it either at first. Honestly, how will I ever manage to keep up with all of this?” A pause, then, “though I suppose it’s also a bit of a blessing. How many summer homes do you think I should have? Perhaps Kensington Palace would be good?”

“Harry!”

Her friend frowned. “Honestly, Hermione, this isn’t even the best part of it yet. I don’t think I can even read the exact number of galleons in my accounts—too many zeroes. I’m pretty sure I could buy the Ministry if I wanted to. Godric, I could even buy one of those trunk apartments. They’re over thirty thousand galleons each, but I suppose small cash like that doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“Harry, I’m sorry. This is just so much to take in.” Hermione leant back and breathed in deeply. “Have you told anyone yet? Ron?”

Harry’s face darkened. “I don’t want to talk about Ron,” he said, clenching his fists.

“What, why? What happened?” Hermione asked, frowning. Hadn’t they made up after their fight early in their fourth year?

“I don’t want to talk about him or any other Weasley’s, Hermione. Apparently, they’ve been drugging me since my first year at Hogwarts.”

“What?” she cried out again. Drugging? The Weasley’s? “Why would they have done that?”

“To get my inheritance, apparently.” Harry looked away and dropped himself back onto the armchair. “I still can hardly believe it. I thought of them like family, yet…” he said, shaking his head. “I’m glad I got myself checked by the Goblins, otherwise who knows what might have happened. Ginny’s been dousing me with love potions since third year!”

Hermione bit her lip. “Oh, Harry,” she said, bringing an arm to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Are you okay now?”

“I am. Thank you, Hermione. You are the first person to hear all of this. I didn’t know who else to tell.”

“This is still all a bit too much to take in, but you can trust me, Harry.” Hermione smiled warmly and looked back at the documents on the coffee table. It sounded impossible, but given where they were meeting and how the goblins had behaved towards him it had to be true. “Okay, so, what else did you get told? If you are the Lord of—. There is still more, right?”

Harry nodded and beckoned her to lean forwards. The bright lights on the ceiling reflected off his green eyes, making them glisten briefly. “It isn’t. This is all still being calculated, but apparently I have at least twenty Wizengamot seats.”

Hermione breathed out carefully. Having twenty permanent seats as the head of multiple Ancient and Noble houses likely meant an automatic majority for whomever her friend decided to support. “You’d be able to give majority to whomever you sided with,” she said slowly. Her frown deepened as she ran through what that implied. “You could even practically pick who the next Minister for Magic is.”

Harry beamed. “Exactly! The goblins said that Dumbledore apparently wanted to hide this from me, but I can’t imagine why. Just think about all the good I could do!”

“I’m not sure Harry,” she said, voice quavering slightly. “Isn’t it a bit dangerous?”

“Nonsense, Hermione. You should be proud. I’ve started to research the topic already. The goblins gave me a set of books which detail most of what has gone wrong with Wizarding Britain. Let me tell you—it’s a lot! The goblin king even told me about it personally.”

Hermione shook her head and looked at her best friend. He seemed to be genuinely excited, but something about what he had said didn’t sit right with her. If he had inherited the amount of wealth and power he was implying he had there was bound to be more going on than what was immediately apparent.

“That sounds a bit suspicious, Harry,” she said after a few moments of silence. “How can you sure those books aren’t biased? You should be more—.”

“They’ve helped me to go through all of this, Hermione, why would they lie now?” Harry interrupted, shaking his head. “Honestly, a lot of the things they mentioned were despicable. To think they aren’t allowed wands... Magical creatures like us, yet—!”

He clenched his fists and leant forwards, shaking his head. Hermione watched him silently, not quite knowing what to say. She could understand what angered him about the treatment of magical creatures, and, truthfully, she was glad that he seemed to have awakened to the utter horror she had discovered herself over the last year. _He isn’t necessarily wrong,_ she mulled, _but to get books just like that… What’s going on?_

“I know that, Harry, and you know that I completely agree with you there,” Hermione said slowly, relaxing back into her armchair, “but you can’t deny that this is all a bit convenient.”

Harry huffed. “Convenient? More than discovering my inheritance, you mean?” Her friend stood back up and gestured around himself. “Let’s be realistic, Hermione. These are some rather extraordinary circumstances as it is.”

Hermione sighed. Why couldn’t he see what she meant? “I know that, but—.”

“But nothing, Hermione! You are my friend, but can you imagine the sheer amount of good I could do?” he said passionately. “Now that Voldemort is back it is only a matter of time before war starts again, but I can do something about it. Did you know that as the Head of the Slytherin line I can legally seal away his magic?”

Hermione felt herself pale. “What?” she asked, stuttering. “Seal away? Harry, but that’s—. How—.”

Harry grinned. “Well, he attacked his own _pater familias_. I told you already, I am Lord Slytherin now. Soon he’ll be no trouble at all!”

“But Harry, that’s dangerous! To have that kind of power along with all those Wizengamot seats… You have to be careful!”

Her friend ignored her. Instead, pensively, her brushed his lip with his thumb as he mulled over the information. “I suppose that by the sheer number of family connections I have I’d probably be able to seal away the magic of about half of Britain’s magical population. A topic for another day, I suppose, but all the better.”

Hermione swallowed, feeling more than slightly disturbed. She didn’t like the fact that this all had been hidden from her friend, but she thought she could understand more than a few of the reasons which had likely led to the deliberate hiding of this information. Surely it would have been better if this all had been discovered—or not at all—once they were older and therefore more mature?

Unaware of her thoughts, Harry continued. “I know that you are worried, but this is a fantastic opportunity, Hermione. I’m not going to let it go. Honestly, we couldn’t have ever thought of a better outcome after the mess that the last school year was. Given how incompetent Fudge is I think we can both agree that the best place to start is by kicking him out of office. After that, I’ll—.”

Hermione bit her lip hard enough to feel pain. Harry wasn’t making any sense. She disliked Fudge as much as anyone could. The man was shameless and incompetent, but to kick him out of his office just like that was a completely different topic. Should she warn Ron about this? Dumbledore?

To a side, Harry grinned. “After that, I will make sure to guide the Wizengamot through all the changes that need to be done to Wizarding Britain. It’s going to be great. After all, thanks to all those books the goblins gave me, if anyone’s prepared to fix things it’s me.”

Briefly, Hermione glanced down at her pocket, where her wand was. There was no way Harry would attack her for disagreeing with him, but what if the goblins thought otherwise? Was she safe?

She was startled out of her reverie moments later, when Harry approached her and placed both hands on her shoulders. Her eyes darted up and met his own bright green ones. “I know it is unavoidable we will disagree on a few details, Hermione, but I can trust you with this, right?” he said earnestly. “I know you won’t betray me—not like Ron and his family.”

Hermione gulped. She definitely needed to tell Dumbledore about this before it was too late—if it wasn’t already. “Of course, Harry,” Hermione said, forcing herself to smile.


End file.
